Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Constance’s wedding ring flashed in the sunlight that streamed through the living room window as she rubbed her temples.
“You don’t have to stay,” Scarlett reminded her. “You have a life.”
“As if I would leave.”
“You have a new husband. A husband who, I’m sure, is angry to know you’re using up all your leave to be here.”
“It’s compassion leave. It doesn’t count. And he’ll survive. Besides, he’s only my husband. You’re my sister.” Constance held her gaze, making sure Scarlett saw her resolve. “I’m staying. I’m packing your things. And tomorrow, I will drive you and William to the airfield to meet Jameson’s uncle.”
“I’m not leaving.” How could she possibly abandon Jameson when he would need her the most?
Constance took Scarlett’s hands in her own. “You have to.”
Scarlett ripped her hands away. “No, I don’t.”
“I’ve seen your visa. I know how close you are to the Americans’ quota, and I’ve seen the expiration date. If you don’t take this chance, it might not come again.”
Scarlett shook her head. “He’ll need me.”
Constance’s expression softened, filling with compassion.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Scarlett whispered, retreating a step. “He could still be out there. He still is out there.”
Constance’s gaze flickered toward William, who chewed on the edge of the blanket Jameson’s mother had made. “He wanted you to go. He arranged all of this so you and William could be safe.”
Scarlett’s chest tightened. “That was before.”
“Can you honestly tell me he wouldn’t want you to go?”
Scarlett looked anywhere but at her sister, trying and failing to pin down one emotion, one certainty. Of course Jameson would want her to go, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do.
“Don’t take it away,” Scarlett whispered, her throat aching with all the words she wouldn’t let herself say.
“What?”
“My hope.” Her voice broke as her vision blurred. “It’s all I have left. If I pack those bags, if I get on the plane, I’m abandoning him. You can’t ask me to do that. I won’t.” It was one thing to take William to the States, knowing that Jameson would join them when the war ended. But the thought of not being here when they found him, of leaving him to heal on his own, no matter what condition he was in, was more than she could take. And if she so much as gave in for the tiniest second to the possibility that he wouldn’t come home, she would shatter.
“You can wait for Jameson in the States just as easily as you can wait here. Where you are doesn’t change wherever he is,” Constance argued.
“If there was a chance Edward had survived, would you have left?” Scarlett challenged.
“That’s not fair.” Constance flinched, and the first tear broke free, sliding down Scarlett’s face.
“Would you?”
“If I had William to worry about, then yes, I would have left.” Constance looked away, her throat working as she swallowed. “Jameson knows you love him. What would he want you to do?”
Another tear fell, then another, as though the dam had broken, as her heart screamed in silent agony at the truth it was forced to acknowledge.
Scarlett scooped her son into her arms and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his cheek. For William. “He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I’d take William to Colorado.” The tears came in a steady stream now, and William tucked his head in to her neck, like he understood what was happening. God, would he even remember Jameson?
“Then you have to take him.” Constance stepped forward and ran the backs of her fingers down William’s cheek. “I don’t know what happens to your visa if Jameson is dead.”
Scarlett’s shoulders curved inward as she battled against the rising sob in her throat. “I don’t either.” All it would take was a trip to the consulate to answer that question, but what if it canceled her visa? What if William could go but she couldn’t?
“If you stay…” Constance had to clear her throat, then try again. “If you stay, our father can have you declared hysterical. You know he would do it if it meant getting his hands on William.”
Scarlett’s tears stopped. “He wouldn’t—”
The girls shared a look, because they both knew he would. Scarlett held William a little tighter, swinging softly as he began to fuss.
“Jameson would want you to go,” Constance repeated. “Wherever he is right now, he wants you to go. Staying here won’t keep him alive.” Constance’s words faded into a whisper.
If he even was alive.
“You can’t help Jameson. But you can save your son—his son.” Constance gripped her sister’s forearm gently. “It doesn’t mean you’re giving up hope.”
Scarlett closed her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could feel Jameson’s arms around her. She had to believe that she would feel them again. It was the only way she could keep breathing, keep moving. “If…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “All I would have in this world would be William, and you. How am I supposed to leave you?”